Page 150 of A Debt of Darkness

This is far too close to call and I’m far from fucking happy. Ryan’s taken over running the coven and Matt’s been dealing with the remnants of the other two. I don’t have time for anything except Ivy and every time the Brotherhood asks to speak to me, I impolitely decline.

I refuse to let her go. I won’t leave her for a second. I won’t make the mistake I’ve made too many times before. This is Ivy’s crucible, this is her test. She’ll burn or break and I’ll be damned if I let her turn to ash.

I should have turned her earlier.

I should have explained this to her.

I should have done a thousand other things differently, but I didn’t and now she’s paying the price for my mistakes.

Her little body buckles and curls into a ball, clinging to itself as pain rips through it. I’d give anything to take this away from her. Do anything to spare her this burden. I’ve failed her again and I screw my eyes up when her knees hit her chest and she shudders, reacting to the horrors reeling through her mind.

There wasn’t time to prepare. There wasn’t even a second to order my memories and Ivy’s dealing with the disarray of my disordered thoughts. She’ll struggle to understand most of it and the constant waves of my existence will break on her and threaten to turn her to driftwood, ever lost on a sea on uncertain tides.

“I’m here, Ivy.”

My voice is soft. A balm of comfort to soothe her pain. And me.

Her fingers reach for me and dig into my thigh, clinging on like she’s holding on for dear life. Whichever memory is taking hold is potent, and my wife’s caught in its thrall. It's carrying her in its streams as they turn to torrents, washing away her senses as it consumes her and she screams, shaking as the violence of my life tears hers apart.

“I want it to end.”

My heart shatters as I curse myself for being a selfish asshole who did this to someone so pure. So perfect. So finnocent my memories are a torture from hell.

“You’re going to be fine.”

Please, let her be fine.

Please, Ivy.

For me.

“I can’t…”

She’s giving up and I cannot allow it.

Ivy needs to find her fight, and I need to rouse her temper. Even if it hurts me. Even if it goes against my nature. Sometimes the fight is the only thing left and that’s what drags you forward. It’s the call to survive and the light that won’t fade, even when hope has been pried from your grasp. Ivy needs to survive the darkest hours of the morning, endure their cold, and then she’ll rise like the sun and the colors of her dawn will be more startling than any seen before or after.

I haul her onto my lap, and her skin is drenched in sweat. She’s cold and clammy, shivering as terror and the transformation take hold. Ivy dares to open her eyes, and their brilliant emerald has faded to dull moss, their sparkle gone as their gleam turns dim.

“Take from me, lea.”

Ivy shakes her head and tries to drop it, and I grab her chin, forcing it up. She needs this and I’d rather she took it willingly, but if she won’t, I’ll force her. Our eyes meet again and there’s little resistance in hers, leaving me mourning the loss of her fight that used to drive me insane.

“I can’t.”

She’s pitiful and I won’t let her be this.

“You can, Ivy. You can do this. For me.” I pause. “For yourself.”

I turn my head and offer her my neck, knowing it’s a temptation she’ll struggle to resist. So far, she’s refused to feed herself and I’ve resorted to feeding her when she slept or making her drink from me. But I’ve left her a few days without food and that’s part of why she’s struggling.

Ivy needs to feed, and the thirst is taking over her senses. It’s pulsing through her and flowing into me through the bondtying us together. She’s hungry and her breathing quickens as she leans forward, dragging her fingers down my neck.

She wants this.

She needs this.

She just has to give in to this.

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